


got me on my knees like religion

by frnndtorres



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Götzeus, M/M, Soulmates, first gotzeus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-10 20:19:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7004920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frnndtorres/pseuds/frnndtorres
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Forehead against forehead<br/>I feel my temperature rise</em>
</p><p>set in a world where once you meet your soulmate your temperature is bound to the distance between you both.</p>
            </blockquote>





	got me on my knees like religion

**Author's Note:**

> hello and thanks for reading!
> 
> two things, 1) the dates are all over the place, regarding the national team call-ups and when they joined their respective clubs, and 2) the story in general drifts a bit a the end - read at your own risk.
> 
> (i receive prompts and all of those so if you want me to write something for you, as long as it's m/m, i'll do it.)

Mario remembers it perfectly, almost as if it was yesterday, the first time his temperature changed.

_It was four years ago, back when he was still playing for Borussia and life easy. ~~ **E** **asier**~~. Dortmund wasn't exactly a cold city per se, and it was summer, thirteen degrees was the lowest it could get around this season. Nothing unbearable._

_But Mario, he couldn't shake off this feeling, like something was about to happen. He felt it on his stomach, burning up with anxiety, and he was getting tired of it. He kept going through the things he had done that day, looking for a clue or something he had forgotten, **w** **hat is it? I watered my plants, I showered, I didn't forget my training bag, I-**_

_"Ma-ri-o!"_

_He looked up when he heard his name and glanced around for a moment. All of his teammates, less Mats, were gathered around something - or rather some **one -** but all he could see was a flash of blond hair._

_"What's going on there?" he asked Mats who seemed to be the one calling for his attention in the first place._

_"It's the new guy - Marco, I think."_

_Mario only frowned, **new guy?** he didn't remember anything about a new guy, or "Wait, isn't he the one who's also joining Dortmund?"_

_Mats only (and very helpful) response was a slight shrug and a simple "Maybe?" which **did** sound more like a question then an actual answer._

**_Whatever_ ** _, he had thought to himself, **I'll know soon enough anyways**._

 

-

 

_Turns out Mario didn't even get the chance to actually talk to him until noon, when the team usually meet up at the hotel for lunch. He sat with Mats (as usual), and it wasn't because he was antisocial or anything of the sort, ~~not entirely, at least~~  but he was one of the newbies, like Mats, and preferred to play it on the safe side._

_"-but anyways it's not like pasta is the only food I like, you know? It's just what I usually go for because is easier to cook and, like, yeah. But pizza is also great. I don't like Italians but their food is pretty good - oh and Venice, Venice is great. Remember that one time I said-"_

_"Mats," Mario cut him off, because let's get real, he loves his friend, **he really does** , but he can swear that if he utters one more word about a obnoxiously random topic he is going to murder him._

_Mats, on the other hand, was just frowning at him, confused, as if he truly just didn't understand why Mario had interrupted his oh so important rant about basically nothing._

_"You were just... ranting a bit, don't you think?" He looked elsewhere as he nonchalantly took a gulp of his water._

_"I so wasn't, you asshole. I swear, Götze, you never pay any attention to anything I-"_

_"Hey, uh, you guys mind if I sit with you?" someone cleared their throat quietly above them and Mario couldn't help but burst out laughing when he saw the look on Mats's face, which was a mixture of anger and slight disappointment at being interrupted **twice**._

_Marco, however, didn't find it as amusing as his supposed teammates did and was actually considering leaving without another word but then the golden-haired guy with the chubby cheeks ~~that reminded him of a squirrel~~  spoke._

_"I'm s-sorry" - he stopped to take a deep breath, still recovering from his laughing fit - "I wasn't laughing at you or anything. I swear." He gave Marco a dazzling smile and no, Marco didn't feel his stomach doing weird back flips nor did his cheeks get hot. Not in the slightness._

_"But yeah, no, sit. Go ahead. I'm Mario. Götze," the guy kept smiling brightly, holding out his hand._

_( **Mario Götze. I've never thought of 'Mario' being a remotely sexy name but maybe if I'm moaning it- stop it, Reus, you just met the guy for fuck's sake.** )_

_Marco blinked rapidly and made a mental note to take a **really** cold shower later, before slowly taking a seat across from Mario, beside what's-his-face and taking Mario's hand in his._

_And in **that** moment Marco's whole world stopped._

_His whole body froze, in every sense of the word. He was sure he was cold as ice, he could feel it in his fingers and chest - as if someone had filled up his lungs with snow, making it hard ~~impossible~~ to breath. He doesn't know how long this lasted for, wasn't even sure if it actually happened, but then his temperature changed again. Like a wildfire, it spread throughout his bones and veins, a white-hot burn that he couldn't decipher wether it hurt or not. He felt as if he was literally on fire, the snow in his longs rapidly melting and instead turning into boiling water that was scorching it's way up and down his chest and throat and head. Had him gasping for air as if he had played three matches in a row._

_And then it stopped._

_He slowly opened his eyes **when did I even close them?** and he was met with Mario's intense stare. _ _He swears he could he flames dancing in his hazel eyes._

_"I, uh- I'm Marco. Reus."_

 

-

 

Yeah,  ~~he wasn't smiling fondly at the memory~~ he remembers it like the back of his hand.

But just like that the smile  _I wasn't smiling!_ vanished from his face when he remembered the permanent chill that had taken over his body ever since he moved to Munich.

( _Because 'moving to Munich'  didn't make him feel like shit, not like 'leaving Dortmund for Bayern' did, at least._ )

And no, Munich  ~~like Dortmund~~ wasn't a cold city, not unbearably so. But he knew the constant cold he felt, from the tip of his toes, up his spine and all the way to the top of his head, wasn't something that could be _fixed_. Not with sweaters and gloves (no, he _absolutely_   _never_ tried that), or with with a heater. It wasn't about the weather, because  _this_ cold, this cold was different. Sure if someone touched him he'd be ice-cold, but a thermometer would give a certain 36º degrees, a normal body temperature, nothing compared to what he was actually feeling.

It was annoying, yes, but more so than that, it  _hurt_. Not only because sometimes it did  _actually cause physical pain_  ( _nights he dreamt with a flash of blonde hair and green. Yellow and black. Those mornings, when we woke up alone, his bones so cold it became unreal, desperately reaching for his phone and dialing the number he knew by heart, whining pathetically. "It hurts, Marco. It **really fucking hurts** and I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."_ ) but because he knew two things, two things that were always weighting him down and beating him up over and over again:

     one, this was entirely his fault.

     two, he wasn't the only one feeling this way.

 

-

 

"You okay?" Marco heard someone speaking above him.

"Yeah, I'm just."  ~~h o t~~

 

-

 

Later that day, after practice, Marco sat on his couch, wrapped up in blankets, heat in it's highest setting to the point were he was  _actually_ sweating  ~~and wether he was wearing Mario's jersey or not was beyond the point~~. He knew it wouldn't work, it never did, but in some way, it helped. At least in his mind it did, and that was all  ~~not what~~ he needed.

His phone started ringing and he groaned because  _where the fuck did I put it?_ but managed to find it somewhere in the mess of softness around him, and when he read the name  **Sunny** on his screen he honest to god felt like crying.

"- _pleasepickuppleasepickup_ -"

"Mar..." he chuckled involuntarily at his boyfriend's antics.

"MARCO!"

"Hey, Sunny," he smiled brightly at Mario's excitement.

"DID YOU SEE IT?"

"Yes, I-"

"DID YOU? BECAUSE YOU TOLD ME YOU WOULD AND I SCORED AND-"

"Mar."

"-and I know you hate Bayern but I scORED. And it was for you. I screamed it out but I don't think anyone heard. Not really, cause everyone was yelling a lot, you know? And then the guys fell on top of me and well I-"

"Mario."

"Yeah?"

"I saw the match," he begun, barely hiding his excitement, "and I saw the goal, which by the way was so good, baby, congrats."

He could practically  _feel_ Mario blushing on the other side of the line.

"And I... well I sorta knew it was for me. I felt-"

"Warm," Mario finished for him. "Yeah, me too."

 

-

 

Marco didn't have anything against surprises, not really, but he did think that sometimes Mario took the term 'spontaneous' to a whole new level.

It was around noon and he had been lying on his bed changing channels for the past hours. He wasn't much of a tv person but  _eh whatever_.

He sighed when he didn't find anything worth watching for the hundredth time and groaned, rubbing his face.

And he froze.

Slowly, he covered his face with his palm and frowned, moving his hands all over his body.

He was  _warm_.

And come to think of it, he hasn't been his usual cold self for the past few hours.

_What?_

He stood up, walking to the bathroom and splashing some water on his face,  _am I running a fever or something?_

But he didn't feel sick, not at all. Actually, he was pretty... anxious? Maybe. In a good way.

_What the fuck's going on? Is this soulmate temperature thing broken or someth- ohmygod- what if Mar-_

He quickly shook his head and scolded himself for having such absurd thoughts.

Then he felt it.

Now he was  _sure_ his temperature had just risen, just like his heartbeat.

"I'm so gonna die right now," he muttered to himself.

"Please don't, I didn't just drive six hours to watch you die."

For the second time that day, he froze.

_This can't be-_

He turned around, and there, almost awkwardly so, standing under his doorway, was none other than Mario Götze.

"Hi, Marco," he waved.

 _Waved_.

"You-" he started saying but was quickly cut of by a pair of lips on his.

"Shut it, Reus," Mario mumbled against his lips and Marco gripped his waist so tightly that he was afraid it would leave marks.

"I can't-"

He was taking Mario's  _Bayern_ jersey off  _why the fuck did he even-_

"-believe you-"

Now he was pushing him against the wall, breathing hard and ragged against the younger's bitten-red lips.

"-didn't tell me!"

He stopped for a moment, his mind and body a mix of fiery emotions.

He took a few seconds to size Mario up. Because he was  _there_ , in flesh and bone, trapped between the wall and his own body. Hair a mess and  ~~chubby~~ cheeks tinted with the cutest fucking blush he's ever seen. Eyes bright with the same flames he saw the first time they touched dancing around them.

"Hi," Mario sighed against his lips and Marco didn't know it was possible to sound so  _raw_ and  _vulnerable_ with only one word.

"Hi?" he chuckled.

Mario smiled and wrapped his arms around his waist, pressing their bodies impossibly closer.

"Surprise?" he asked sheepishly and Marco couldn't help but lean down and kiss him, capturing his bottom lip and softly nibbling on it.

They stayed like that for a while, lose-limbed and warm. Slowly but passionately kissing against Marco's bedroom wall, hands finding a home under each other's shirt, caressing soft skin and running through their hair like they had all the time in the world.

Feeling hot and complete for the first time in months.

 

-

 

"You know you almost gave me a heart attack, right?" Marco lazily mumbled against Mario's hair as they cuddled in his bed.

Mario moved his head so his chin was resting on Marco's chest, looking into his eyes.

"I know, I was laughing my ass off the whole drive just thinking about it."

"Hey!" Marco pouted childishly and Mario leaned up to kiss him.

"I love you," he murmured.

Marco's eyes shone as he wrapped his arms tighter around Mario's waist and kissed his forehead.

"God, I love you too, Sunny."


End file.
